Clara Winters' POV
Julian Cross was someone I never really considered anything.
But after he pulled out a dagger and aimed it at another student's neck , someone who had been forceful and aggressive toward him—it piqued my interest.
It was… intriguing.
After the system announcement, the one stating only 7% of the world's population had survived, my chest ached a little remembering someone.
It reminded me of someone I considered my only family.
Miss Nurse.
'Thank you for everything until now, Miss Nurse.' I prayed.
'May you live a peaceful life in your next birth.'
Alas I forcefully calmed myself down. Now is not the time.
I glanced at Julian, curious if the announcement had affected him in any way.
But he remained calm, may be the calmest of them all.
I studied his figure quietly.
Suddenly, our eyes met.
His golden eyes were… mesmerizing.
'Did he have those eyes before?'
For two whole minutes, we held each other's gaze.
Eventually, I looked away, slightly embarrassed.
Of course, my expression betrayed nothing.
While most students panicked, Lucian Rowen skillfully manipulated them, his honey-wrapped words seeping into their minds like poison.
It was kind of disgusting.
How he carried himself—so superior, so calculating… and how he viewed people as mere tools for display.
My thoughts drifted back to Julian.
I observed him, not with attraction, but out of pure curiosity.
He seemed unfazed by all this chaos.
Yet, I caught the faintest flicker of disgust in his eyes—directed at Lucian.
It was clear he saw through the facade.
Once the protests quieted down, Lucian slowly advanced toward me.
"Spare me the headache," I muttered, barely concealing my irritation.
"Hey, Clara," Lucian greeted smoothly, his words coated in that same honeyed tone.
"Let's form a group."
"I'll pass," I replied coolly, brushing past him without a second glance.
Lucian's mouth twitched, but he kept his anger tightly in check.
I continued walking, my steps purposeful, until I reached Julian.
"Let's form a party," I said plainly.
---
Julian's Perspective – Present
I looked up at Clara, half-eating a sandwich, half-focused.
"Got any ideas?" I asked, voice calm but expectant.
Clara's eyes remained unreadable as she answered in her usual cold tone:
"We need to abandon this group.This group was unpredictable and dangerous. The leader was worse than any goblin—someone who viewed people as tools. Leaving this group was important, even at the cost of safety. We need to scout the perimeter and find a safe place beyond the cafeteria."
"There are too many unknowns out there," I murmured, evaluating the pros and cons.
"Let's wait for a few days before abandoning this group."
There was no guarantee that this group would remain stable.
"Let's be cautious," I said.
Suddenly, we were interrupted by two students.
They were left out, probably the weakest of the bunch.
I introduced myself, and Clara did the same in a cold voice.
The other two were Evan Stol and Maya Arial.
We sat down in the cafeteria's cold metal chairs, the dim light casting long shadows over us.
Soon, Marcus approached.
"Group 10," he announced with authority.
"You'll do scouting around the area alongside Group 8 and Group 6. And before you argue, this was decided at random."
We just nodded, though the other two trembled with fear.
I began to think of a plan—a way to break down Lucian's carefully constructed facade.
I didn't know why, but I wanted the group to crumble.
'If I subtly exploited their fears and hidden weaknesses, I could set them against each other.' I began to simulate.
Firstly, I would bury a seed doubt.
I leaned in closer to Clara, lowering my voice to a conspiratorial whisper.
"Lucian's greatest weapon isn't his strength or his system," I said, my tone deliberate and cold. "It's the way he plays on their insecurities."
Clara's eyes narrowed slightly, intrigued despite herself.
I continued.
"We will suggest that some of the leaders are hoarding supplies… making decisions behind closed doors for their benefit alone. Let the others whisper among themselves."
Clara remained silent, absorbing every word.
Then I added, "We'll plant small hints—'Did you notice how Marcus barely looks at us anymore?' 'He seems suspiciously interested in who gets the most food.' Simple seeds of doubt. People will grow paranoid, and eventually, the group will fracture."
She raised an eyebrow, the slightest flicker of amusement touching her emotionless face.
"You're playing a very dangerous game here" she observed, voice devoid of judgment.
"Of course," I replied with a slight smirk, "but it is necessary."
We sat in silence for a moment, the weight of our plan sinking in.
We are the players here.
And our next move would shape our survival.